My Quirk
by PurePinkEtiquette
Summary: Finland, Sweden and Sealand are on vacation but Finland has a secret he doesn't want to spill. Lot's of SuFin awkwardness, over-analyzing Finland and Sealand being loud and cheeky.


**My Quirk**

"Mama, since Papa agrees, can we please,_ please_ go eat ice cream?"  
Sealand tucks at my heartstrings when engulfing me with those globular eyes, blue like the ocean surrounding his territory. I guess that isn't the only way he resembles the sea with his pig-headedness being overwhelming like a tsunami.

I exchange looks with Sweden, whose ears are staring to burn red from the accusation.

I smile overbearingly at him.

We don't go on vacation all the time after all, and I don't think Sweden knows my problem with food, so it was only natural for him to allow Sealand some holiday unhealthiness.

"Since Papa's already agreed." I shrug, smiling down at the younger nation, who has been pulling my sleeve so urgently for the past ten minutes in his determination to get dessert.

Peter lets out a triumphant cry of joy, and heads toward the café in a sprint after loudly having claimed himself the "most kickass nation ever".

"D'nmark's hav'n a bad 'nflu'nce on h's l'nguage. We shouldn't l't 'im see P'ter so oft'n." Sweden grumbles. He smacks his tongue while giving Hanatamagos leash a gentle tug whereafter she yips compliantly, running after us.

"If we didn't let him Denmark would probably kick in the door or something." I remark, eyebrows travelling upwards to hide underneath my bangs. "He has done that quite a few times to Norways house."

"I hear you badmouthing Uncle Denmark and I don't like it" Sealand shouts disdainfully, a good ten meters ahead.

I offer Berwald a sympathetic smile, and I believe the trace of a reciprocating one is forming at the corner of his mouth. One can never be too sure though, but when I think I spot a smile, it never fails to make my heart flutter. We continue walking towards the café.

"We're just joking Sea." I assure him, grimacing to Berwald as if to say: "damn, that kid hears everything."

"But that really isn't the greatest issue at hand right now," I think to myself when we walk into the neat café.

The sweet smell of syrup reaches my nose, and upon seeing the pastel-coloured pancake, ice cream and waffle signs everywhere, I know this wont go the way I planned. On top of that I've gained a some weight lately. I hope Berwald hasn't seen it.

Praying that Berwald wont notice the loud rumbling of my stomach, I follow the Swede to a table outside the café, where Peter is already plopped down on a chair, swinging his short legs back a forth in anticipation.

"S'm'thing wr'ng?"

I jump because I was caught up in my own worries, but quickly regain my composure.

"Oh Berwald. You startled me," I giggle nervously, meeting his scrutinizing stare with flickering eyes, "but no, nothing is wrong really."

I look down at my lap, starting to fiddle nervously with my belt, but I can practically feel his eyes behind the thick glasses burning on one side of my head, like were they magnifying glasses catching the rays of sun.

He continues to stare at me until the waiter shows up, ready to take our orders.

"And what would you like?"

"I want a bananasplit with ice cream and chocolate sauce and strawberries and..."

"J'st a reg'lar b'nanaspl't pl's." Sweden mumbles in correction, shaking his head at Sealand. He looks up at the waiter and nods shortly. Eyes flashing behind the glasses.

"C-certainly. And what would you l-like?" The waiter stutters, obviously intimidated by Berwalds frightening conduct and gloomy stare.

"C'ffee. W'th m'lk."

This happens all the time when we go out, so I'm pretty used to it, but sometimes I catch myself wondering why people act alienated at something Berwald does, when the action simply strikes me as cute.

I suppose that implies we've been together for a long time.

I offer the the waiter a sympathetic look, seeing that he manages to drop all the menu cards on the floor, when Berwald is trying to send him, what I know is supposed to be a polite smile. He quickly recollects them, looking awfully embarrassed.

Poor guy, he probably isn't used to having someone quite like Berwald around on a daily basis.

"I was try'nta to be p'lite." Sweden whispers abashedly into my ear, when the waiter is distracted by some other customers..

"It's fine." I quietly tell him and give his hand a tiny squeeze, secretly adoring the way his ears are turning red and the way he pulls up his shoulders when he feels awkward.

"And what can I get you?" The waiter has returned his attention to us, and sweat is starting to wet my palms. I quickly remove my hand from Berwalds so he won't notice.

"Just a coffee." I reply humbly, whilst twisting my hands uncomfortably in front of me. The scent of chocolate, ice cream and sugar is gnawing its way into my nostrils, but I can't have Sweden notice my weak point.

"H'll h've a fr'pputino."

"R-ruotsi!"

I gawk up at him, but he doesn't budge. Doesn't even return my look. I'm aware that I must appear incredibly stupid with my mouth agape just starring at him, and I detest being thrown off like that, but he has really caught me by surprise.

_How can he just interrupt me and correct my order like that? What if he is aware of my weakness for sweets! Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. _

The waiter appears every bit as thrown off as me, and he gapes at me questioningly, silently asking for my consent.

I nod, feeling my cheeks sizzle. I frankly can't resist the sugary smells surrounding me anymore.

"'nd a p'ncake," Berwald adds nonchalantly.

"Certainly," the waiter chirps, this time not bothering with my consent. He spins around for a rapid escape in between the round tables.

As soon as he's gone I turn to the bigger nation.

"Ruotsi, why would you order all that?" I raise my voice an octave in feigned ignorance, because maybe, just _maybe_, I can save the situation by acting as if I'm really not interested in the sweets and have no clue why he ordered it.

"'Cos ya l'ke sug'r." he states, deadpan, pushing his glasses, that have slipped down the bridge of his nose back in place.

"I do not!" I exclaim, slightly nagged by his sudden assertiveness.

"Yes you do Mama!" Sealand contributes loudly. "You always eat cookies and stuff when you think we don't notice, I've seen it at least a thousand times."

The young nation laughs and grabs my arm, hugging it tightly.

_What! _Now I really don't know what to reply - especially because they have hit the spot. I absolutely detest it when people discover my flaws.

I enjoy pleasing other people and I feel awkward when I sense they aren't comfortable around me, because I'm not living up to their expectations.

My heart beats so loudly I'm convinced it's going to burst through my shirt, and my family just keeps chuckling at me, acting as if it's nothing.

I know it's silly, but sometimes I actually feel like I'm not living up to Swedens expectations. He's outside all day chopping wood, fishing and being physically active, so he is always fit.

Me, on the other hand, I've always despised any kind of physical activity regardless of it being soccer or hiking. But because Berwald takes care of his body, I feel that I should be doing the same thing.

My train of thoughts is put to a stop, when Sealand proclaims that I'm blushing whist showing his index finger into my cheek to point out just where.

The desert is brought to our table, and we finish it in quiet.

Neither Berwald nor Peter seem to be affected by the previous confrontation, and Hanatamago is blissful when I offer her the remains of my desert in guilt of being unveiled, but the issue keeps wiggling in the back of my mind, and escalates that very same night.

It's eleven o'clock in the evening and Sweden is sitting on our double bed, eyeing me impatiently. He wants me to come to bed.

I keep marching in and out of the bathroom in my bathrobe, dragging out the time.

Pausing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, I open the bathrobe critically eyeing the reflection.

My thighs are rounder than they ought to be, and my stomach is chubby too.

I sigh.

I hate it. I know some of it is just part of how I'm built, but my "eating disorder" doesn't improve anything.

Fat, stupid me...

My thoughts drift back to the café and the humiliation of being found out. I hope I'm not putting to much into it...

"T'no?"

For the second time today Berwald succeeds in giving me a huge shock.

I manage to contain a startled yelp but can't hold back a jump. I see his reflection in the mirror, and he's standing in the door as if rooted to the spot, eyes wide.

Realizing I'm naked and that that probably explains his surprised expression, I rapidly wrap the cotton bathrobe around me and turn around ceasing to look him in the eyes.

We stand like that for a moment, neither one knowing what to say. Berwald is just standing there sucking in his lower lip, and I fiddle nervously with my fingers.

I love Sweden, I really do, but nudity _is_ and will _always_ be awkward with him.

Surely we make love from time to time, but even despite us having seen each other naked plenty of times we're always awkward about it. Don't know why, though.

"So..." I begin in panic, wondering what to say, "I was just checking to see if..."

He approaches me, keeping our eyes locked, and I keep quiet.

"Why d'd ya look 't yours'lf?" He asks, as if he hadn't heard me talking.  
The sensation of his warm breath ghosting against my cheeks, his musky scent, hell the mere knowledge of him being near me, makes me want to run off and embrace him at the same time.

"It's just that..." I precede to stammer out.

"Y's?" He stands right in front of my. Just standing there seeming as clueless as myself.

"Berwaldareyoudissapointedinme?"  
_There. _I definitely got the issue across.

For a long painful minute he is just staring at me with mild bewilderment painted all over his features. Then...

"D'ssap'nted?"

"Well, yeah."

He tabs his chin musingly, and replies "no."

For a moment I heave a deep sigh of relief, but then doubt washes over me like a tidal wave.

"But you and Sealand saw me eat." I object, "and I realize I'm chubby enough as it is, so you must be annoyed with me for not minding what I eat. I know I ought to be more careful."

Berwald looks as though I just announced I wanted to marry France.

Completely bewildered.

I don't get why though. Didn't I explain myself clearly enough? Does he not know what to reply, because what I'm saying is actually what he's been thinking all alon..."

"I d'n't m'nd."

"_What?" _is the only word resounding in my head. I voice this.

"Ya be'ng ch'bby... I d'n't m'nd."

The softness of his low, humming voice involuntarily rids my head of all of my worries for a second. That how assuring and caring he sounds, and the sensation of the chills it sends down my spine is beyond compare.

I allow him to wrap his muscular arms around my waist and his hands to travel up and down the curve of my stomach almost without feeling embarrassed.

"I can try loosing some weight." I offer weakly, practically melting in his arms, shivering from the light pecks he places on my neck.

"Nah, I wo'ldn't h've ya any oth'r w'y."

-END-

* * *

_I'm sorry the ending is so sappy and cliché, but I just realized how hard a pairing SuFin is to write, and how ridden from ideas my brain is. _

_The overall source of inspiration for his fic was simply, that I'm a sucker for Tino being a bit chubby. Not like overweight or anything, but just a few kilos too much. _

_Why? I have no idea, but in a way it makes sense, because he is always at home doing housework, while Sweden is outside working, so he doesn't get the same amount of exercise. At least that's the way I imagine things x'D_

_I'd like to point out that this is my first SuFin ever, so I haven't really established any specific writing style for this pairing._

_I have written a couple of fics for DenNor and it's funny 'cos if I compare SuFin to DenNor, DenNor is so much easier to get into. It just strikes me as easier writing from Norways point of view than Finlands, and for some reason awkward silences are way harder to write than constant fighting. Maybe I should have written this from Swedens point of view._

_Btw, I hope everyone has heard that the Nordics are gonna appear on Hetalia soon. That's right XD They are doing the "Sweden and Finland leaves Denmark" scene and a scene where Sweden argues with Poland. Isn't that just too awesome! I'm convinced my inner fangirl combusted and went to heaven when I read about it XD_

_Despite the sloppy ending and the staggering plot I hope you at least enjoyed some of this fic, and please do write a review and spread the SuFin love. They really deserve it._


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